


The Use Of Crying

by Lire_Casander



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-06
Updated: 2013-09-06
Packaged: 2017-12-25 19:16:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/956705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lire_Casander/pseuds/Lire_Casander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>War has consequences that not everyone is ready to face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Use Of Crying

Flowers all over the place - white, red, blue, orange. Flowers were all Harry could see. They were everywhere he looked, and it somehow made him drown in his anxiety. Ginny took his right hand and held it tight, when it should have been the other way round - it was, after all, her brother's funeral.

Hogwarts fields were slowly blooming; at least that was the reason Harry chose to explain the flowers. He looked around, still holding Ginny's hand, and saw Hermione and Ron not far from them, standing under a tree near Hagrid's hut. They were talking in whispers, Hermione fast and nervously, Ron listening and interrupting every now and then. It seemed like the old times, when Hermione used to tell them how to behave and they both just stared at her waiting for the moment when they could get rid of their ties and be as foolish as they wanted to.

He knew those times were long since dead.

The seats were spread on the green of the fields, white against all the vivid colors in every little flower, every new bush. It seemed that Mother Nature was glad of seeing them, but Harry couldn't find any sense in happiness. A life had been ended right before it could have started, and all he could remember was a laugh broken by the noise of a wall descending onto them.

 _You actually_ are _joking, Perce... I don't think I've heard you joke since you were -_

When the air exploded a second later, his world had been destroyed. Even though he had fought afterwards, even though he had died and had relived, even though he had vanquished Voldemort, the life how he had known it had disappeared with Fred's death - the only family he had ever known had been attacked. However, he hadn't done anything to avenge his death; he had fought and won, but not in Fred's name.

It was eating him from the inside.

Mrs. Weasley was in the front row of seats, wiping away some tears with a shaky hand. Mr. Weasley was talking to Bill and Charlie, while Fleur rubbed her husband's back. Half hidden by his relatives, Percy tried to console George, whose vacant eyes spoke loudly about his feelings. His missing ear now seemed the smallest of the war consequences, but he kept touching the patch covering the hole. _Pathetic! With the whole wide world of ear-related humour before you, you go for_ holey _?_. Harry knew that, of all the people attending the funeral, George Weasley was the one who had lost more - he had lost his perfect half, a part of himself. Lee and Alicia, behind him, showed with their hands on each of his shoulders their support. Harry had never seen George so fragile.

"It was not your fault," Ginny said. "It had to happen, Harry. You have lost more than anyone here."

"Voldemort was chasing me. Every death is my fault as much as his, Ginny; I'll have to live with that burden for the rest of my days, so please don't tell me it's not my fault."

It had been a constant argument between them, and between Harry and anyone trying to convince him. She stared at him while he stared sternly into space, without saying a word, fingers linked and hands shaking.

A commotion behind them made the crowd attending the funeral turn their heads at the same time. Ron muttered "What's he doing here?" as Hermione tried to prevent him from running towards the back row.

When Harry turned around, Ginny completely plae beside him, he saw a blond mane framing a pointed face with gray eyes. "How can he...?" he started, but Ginny held him tighter, frowining but not letting her emotions show. Mrs. Weasley, noticing his presence, walked towards him."Draco Malfoy," she said, loud and clear. "I'm glad you could come."

Ron clenched his fists at his mother's words. "What's she _doing_?" he growled, Hermione holding him down. "Malfoy helped this slaughter! He doesn't have the right to be here!"

Harry questioned Ginny with a look and she sighed. "Mum invited his family. She said that in the end they showed a bit of courage, not obeying Voldemort's orders. She said everyone deserves a second chance, Harry, and I agree. Everyone here had a second chance sometime, even you. It's just fair. I believe people can change."

Harry nodded sharply. He could see Hermione whispering something to Ron - he supposed they were the same words Ginny had told him. Women had a knowledge he would never be able to understand, but he could live with it.

He could live, because he had fought for it. He could live without hating Malfoy, for he was no enemy anymore - the enemy had died.

"Let him stay, then," he heard Ron saying. "I want this all over, really. Let him stay."

Malfoy advanced through the corridor between the rows of seats, and found one free next to Harry's. "Good morning," he greeted, not expecting anything back, but Ginny pushed Harry a bit and the black-haired teenager sighed.

"Good morning, Malfoy," he said back, and then, in a gentlemanly gesture, he stretched out his hand. Draco Malfoy looked at him - the whole crowd was looking at him as though Harry Potter had gone crazy all of a sudden. Ron blinked, Hermione held her breath, the remnants of the Weasley family bit their lips in a shared movement.

Draco took Harry's hand and shook it after the initial shock of being reminded of their very first meeting on Hogwarts Express almost eight years before. Someone cleared their throat, a signal that reminded them the ceremony was about to start, and everyone turned around once again. Ginny remained where she was standing - she, as well as Ron, hadn't wanted to be on the first row. George had been forced to, and the place of the youngest Weasleys had been occupied by Lee and Alicia.

Minerva McGonagal started a speech about how talented Fred had been; Molly and Arthur Weasley were wiping away tears. Everyone attending the funeral seemed so sad.

"He wasn't like that," George said suddenly. "He was talented, of course, but he was funny and always smiled. He wouldn't have wanted us to cry for him, Mum."

The guests looked at him aghast, but Harry knew he was right. Fred Weasley wouldn't have allowed that.

"George, you're just affected by his death..." Molly tried to reason.

"Of course I am, Mum, of course I am! Do you know how I feel? Have you dared to ask me? I feel like I could die now and it wouldn't hurt as much as seeing his coffin in front of me, but that doesn't mean I cannot think clearly!"

Some friends nodded. Harry looked at Ginny - she was smiling through her tears, the very first he had seen her shed. Ron was nodding too, and even Draco seemed to agree.

"He would have liked a party in his honour, some music, some fireworks. He wasn't a sad, moody person. He wasn't!" George seemed like he could start crying at any moment, however he was talking louder. "You know I'm right!"

"George, please calm down," said Charlie.

Ron was already fumbling in his pocket, searching for his wand. "What are you doing?" asked Hermione.

"Tell me a song, any song," Ron replied. "I need a song... George is right, Fred would have liked music and smiles... even in his funeral..."

"There's an old Muggle song," provided Draco, earning some strange looks. "It's called _Smile_ and it's perfect for this situation. What's the spell you're going to use?"

"I don't know," Ron's force seemed to fail him. "I don't know, something... anything..."

Draco muttered a spell under the incredulous looks of everyone near him, and the first notes of a song could be heard. Hermione helped him with another spell and the music could be heard all over the place. Molly Weasley shed some more tears, Arthur sang along with the song, George searched for the source of the magic and, not even blinking at the identity of his helper, tipped his head towards him and mouthed a silent _'Thank you.'_

Harry remembered the lyrics of a song he was sure he hadn't heard in his life - maybe it had been when his parents had been alive - and he started singing along too.

  
_Smile though your heart is aching_   
_Smile even though it's breaking_   
_When there are clouds in the sky, you'll get by_   
_If you smile through your fear and sorrow_   
_Smile and maybe tomorrow_   
_You'll see the sun come shining through for you_   
_Light up your face with gladness_   
_Hide every trace of sadness_   
_Although a tear may be ever so near_   
_That's the time you must keep on trying_   
_Smile, what's the use of crying?_   
_You'll find that life is still worthwhile_   
_If you just smile_   
_That's the time you must keep on trying_   
_Smile, what's the use of crying?_   
_You'll find that life is still worthwhile_   
_If you just smile_   



End file.
